The Wrong Girl_Hanson University_Book Two

by McKenna Kerrick

  And with that final remark, Gage slams the door.

  I turn to glare at Alex afterwards, tilting my chin up and narrowing my eyes.

  “What?” Alex sighs.

  “We aren't finished.”

  “I'm beginning to think you actually like hanging out with me,” he scoffs.

  “What are you talking about? I haven't been mean to you, or rude to you, or said anything remotely asshole-ish. That's all you. I get I'm the one who broke up with you, but are you that confident that you can pass Mrs. Voit’s class without my help?”

  “I've not been that big of an asshole.”

  And the feeling of growing is back.

  “You're wrinkling your nose and making your eyes get wider,” Alex points at the bridge of his own nose. “I'm pissing you off.”

  I really, really don't like how well he knows me. “You're being incorrigible.”

  “I'm being honest.”

  “How the hell are you being honest?”

  Alex shrugs his massive shoulders and flips the front of his honey colored hair out of his eyes. “I'm just saying, we know how to swing dance. It's technically dancing. We used to do it all the time, ergo we should be fine.”

  “What if you drop me?” I ask. “Or step the wrong way? You could end my career before it even begins.”

  Alex’s whole face turns tomato red in an instant. “You really fucking think I'd purposely hurt you? Are you kidding me? That's bullshit and you know it.”

  “I didn't say you'd do it on purpose.”

  “But I'm an asshole and therefore I will.”

  My eyes are getting bigger, I can feel it now. It's something that happens when I'm getting angry or flustered. It's like if I widen them enough I'll be able to see through the shit that I'm wading through.

  “Jesus, you're something else, Grace.”

  “But I didn't say it.”

  “Were you thinking it?” he counters.

  I flinch away from his angry face. “No, actually, I wasn't. I was just thinking accidents happen without practice. That's why you practice everyday for football, isn't it? It's the same with dance. Having an accident can cost me my career, just like an accident could cost you yours. I was just trying to point out that we should practice more.”

  Alex visibly relaxes as he lets out an exhale, long and deep through his nose. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I throw my hands in the air and march in a small circle in his room. “You accuse me of something and then just say ‘okay’ instead of apologizing to me for making assumptions?”

  “I'm sorry.”

  I lean back against the wall closest to me and shut my eyes. What is so wrong with the world that karmas greatest interest had to be to throw my ex-boyfriend and me together?

  “There,” Alex blows out another breath that makes me open my eyes. He looks boyish, like when he used to get uncomfortable and antsy before asking me something important to him.

  Nothing seems to have changed much. His hands are shoved inside the pockets of his Levi’s and his boots are still just as scuffed as they ever were. Alex shifts back and forth while tugging on the corner of his lip.

  “I apologized,” he clears his throat.

  “Yeah,” I nod my head. “You did.”

  “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “What do we do now?” Alex asks.

  “Are you still insisting that we wing it for class?” I ask him.

  He frowns at me. “Clearly not with how you just pointed out I was being a dick.”

  I can't help but mumble in sarcasm, “You said it, not me.”

  “I can hear you, you know.”

  “I wasn't trying to whisper.” Not exactly, anyways.

  “So again?” Alex turns slightly back towards where his chair and laptop are. “I can pick another song if you want.”

  “No,” I shake my head. “I like the beat. We can keep this one.”

  Alex nods his head and turns around to fiddle with the laptop before the music begins to play a fast tempo. He turns back to offer me his hand and away we go.

  I feel like I'm flying with each turn, glad that I'm in yoga pants and not a dress or else everything that is holy to me would be on display. Definitely not something that I want to happen.

  The hard part about feeling like you're flying though, is that millisecond decision that gets made for the final dip where you're falling instead.

  And your heart and stomach become one. And his brown eyes don't help that at all.

  Chapter Seven

  Alex

  “She's a fucking brat.”

  Killian adjusts the amount of weight on his dumbbell before looking at me with a patronizing smile. “Grace isn't a brat.”

  “She can be a brat,” I frown.

  “Why are you so angry?” Ian says from the treadmill across the aisle from me.

  “I'm not angry.”

  “He's a little angry,” Killian says.

  “What did Grace do to you?” Ian asks.

  “She made me practice swing dancing with her for two hours,” I huff.

  Killian and Ian look at each other before they simultaneously burst into laughter.

  “It's not funny!”

  “You know,” Killian looks at Ian and grins, “I hear that dancing with a girl is the new way to show them you like them.”

  “Oh? I heard it was dancing with them for two whole hours that meant you might like them,” Ian smirks.

  “I do not like her,” I grind out but it falls on deaf ears.

  “I bet he copped a feel,” Killian says loudly.

  “This is Alex we’re talking about,” Ian agrees.

  “So what, now it's okay to make fun of me about Grace because she turned you down?” I sneer at Ian.

  He frowns from the treadmill. “I can find someone else. Plus, she has a boyfriend, remember?”

  I hadn't, actually.

  “Oh no, now Alex has murder-face,” Killian sighs.

  “I do not.”

  “You do,” Ian agrees. “You have the same look Killian used to get when Lila would talk about going on a date.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Killian’s face locks down into a murderous rage. “Yeah, like that.”

  “Lila’s lucky I let her within your guys’ reach with how you act,” Killian breathes out.

  “No one here is interested in Lila,” I roll my eyes. “Besides you.”

  “Well, obviously, since you're interested in Grace,” Ian smirks again.

  “I swear to God, say that one more time and you're going to be eating the rubber of the treadmill,” I warn.

  “Why are you getting so defensive? We're just messing with you,” Killian says.

  He's right, of course. But being in Grace’s proximity is making me crazy. She's making me crazy. And I can't deal with crazy.

  “Look, it sucks we got stuck in a dance class, but isn't it better to have a dancer on our side versus epically flunking the class?” Ian asks.

  “What makes you think we'd flunk the class?” I ask him.

  Ian raises an eyebrow at me. “You've seen the girls in that class. Not a damn one is there for any other reason than to try and nail a football player. Except Grace.”

  “Because you've already nailed her,” Killian jokes.

  “Would you shut the hell up?” I glare at him.

  “You know, I'm going to give you some advice that was given to me,” Killian ignores me to say. “It's okay to like her still.”

  “It’s not like you're going to do anything about it, anyways,” Ian shrugs.

  “Maybe her boyfriend plays football for Wilmington and can beat you up,” Killian grins. “Wouldn't that be ironic?”

  “No, it wouldn't.”

  “You're awful grumpy, and it can't just be because of the dancing,” Ian shakes his head. “She can't be under your skin that much and you not feel something.”

  “She's not under my skin,” I groan. They're seriously never going to let th
is go.

  “I’d be more inclined to believe you if you actually looked like something else was wrong,” Killian says from beside me. “As much as I hate to be the one to tell you this–”

  “You don’t hate it at all,” I interrupt.

  “–you can’t just ignore the problem and expect it to go away,” Killian finishes.

  “Why not?” I huff and nudge the barbell at my feet with the toe of my running shoe. “She seems to disappear just fine given enough time.”

  “Do you think she’ll disappear again?” Ian asks while hitting a few buttons on the treadmill machine.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do,” Killian points at me. “Spill it.”

  “Her grandfather is sick,” I shrug my shoulders before lifting the barbell off the floor and heaving it into my chest.

  “Ah, I see what the problem is now,” Killian looks over at Ian. “Alex knows she’s staying and he doesn’t know what to do about it.”

  “There’s nothing to do about anything,” I huff and drop the bar on the ground so it bounces. “She’s not interested.”

  “But you’re interested,” Ian wiggles his eyebrows at me.

  I wonder if I can heave this barbell over at him and knock him off the damn treadmill with it?

  “He’s back to having murder-face,” Ian announces.

  Killian looks back over at me but I just glare and pick back up the barbell to do another set of deadlifts.

  “Why the hell are you three chatting like a group of girls?” Coach Stephens huffs at all of us. “You don’t get to play football by gossiping.”

  “Yes, Coach,” Killian says.

  “Aye-aye,” Ian mock salutes him from his spot across the aisle.

  “Hunter?” Coach swings his gaze to look at me and I drop the weight and settle my gaze on his.

  “Sir?”

  “Whatever it is they’re giving you hell about, turnabout is fair game in this gym,” Coach says and points a large finger at me before glaring at everyone else as he saunters away.

  “Did Coach just say we could keep picking on Alex or did he just give Alex permission to beat the shit out of us?” Ian gapes in horror.

  Killian eyes me before saying, “Both, I think.”

  “Can we talk about something else?” I sigh loudly.

  “Do you think Grace’s boyfriend will ever come visit her?” Ian asks just as loud as my sigh, drawing a few people’s attention over to us.

  This time I deliberately stare from the barbell to where Ian is running.

  “Oh jeez, you said to change the topic,” Ian scowls. “There’s no need to threaten me.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  Killian just laughs next to me.

  “You didn’t have to say anything to get the message across,” Ian grunts. “Shit, man. I’m sorry.”

  What am I supposed to say to that? Thanks for making me feel like more shit about Grace than my already fucked up feelings were making me feel?

  I doubt he’d appreciate that. I know I sure wouldn’t.

  “Okay,” Killian wipes a bead of sweat off of his face with the end of his t-shirt. “Let’s go grab something to eat. I’m pretty sure I could eat an entire cow right now.”

  “Wait for me, I have wobbly legs!” Ian says before stepping off the treadmill.

  Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I found new friends.

  “Yup, I’m being completely serious,” Gage continues from down the table. “Alex was butt naked, singing karaoke on top of the coffee table, so blackout drunk he doesn’t even remember it. All those girls were having a field day, but he’s not socially confident enough to remember.”

  “Because he was shitfaced,” Ian adds in.

  Grace stabs her fork into her salad, her eyes flying everywhere but to where I’m sitting four seats down from her.

  “This is fucking stupid,” I frown at Killian beside me. “Why the hell is Gage busting my balls?”

  “It’s fun to watch you squirm?” Killian guesses. “How should I know? You’re about as uncomfortable as she is,” he adds while tilting his head in Grace’s direction.

  “Is this the new game plan? Everyone tells her how much of a whore I am and she hates me forever?”

  “Do you want her to hate you?”

  Right now, I want to punch my best friend in the face for playing games with me. “I don’t care what she does.”

  “Of course not,” Killian snorts. “That’s why you’re trying to strangle Gage with your eyeballs.”

  “Why is she eating lunch here?”

  “She’s Lila’s friend.”

  “She hates the football team,” I rebuttal.

  “She hates you, not the entire team. And she’s Lila’s friend so you might as well get used to seeing her around us. This would be so much easier if we just locked you two in a room together and let you sort it out yourselves.”

  “Would you quit bringing that up?”

  “Would you quit acting like a preteen avoiding their ex? Man up.”

  “I am not acting like a preteen!” I scoff. “You’re acting like a preteen.”

  Killian gives me a bland look. “So sorry, I meant to say third grader, not preteen.”

  I wish I was back in the gym with the barbell to use as a threat. That would teach him. Or not. He’d probably just continue to tell me to stop being an ass.

  “You have two options: you can ignore her and act like she doesn’t exist or you can unstick that pole from your asshole and be a decent person to her. It’s really that simple.”

  “Is there an in between option?” I ask.

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I like to think I’m thinking outside the box.”

  “You’re already outside the box. It’s doing nothing for you. My suggestion is to hop back in the box before you drift so far away you can’t save yourself.”

  God, I hated when he was right.

  “She doesn’t seem to be thrilled about your past shenanigans,” Killian comments after a beat of silence.

  “I’m sure that’s just what anyone would love to hear,” I deadpan. “Get out of a long term relationship and sleep with anything that moves. Definitely sounds like something that should be well known.”

  “To be fair, it is well known around campus.”

  “But not to her.”

  Killian takes a sip of water and leans back in his chair. “At what point are you going to give up and just admit that you like her?”

  “Have pigs been crossbred to grow wings yet?”

  Killian opens his mouth to say something but Ian’s loud voice distracts us and pulls our attention back towards the other end of the table.

  “So, Grace, tell us about your boyfriend,” Ian says.

  Grace grimaces, staring solely down at her food and not looking up at anyone. “He’s fine.”

  “Does he play football?” Ian ponders.

  “No. He’s a dancer.”

  A dancer? She’s dating a dancer? Probably so they have the same schedule and know when they’ll have time for one another.

  I stab my fork into my pasta a little harder than I should.

  “That’s cool,” Gage adds. “Is he any good?”

  At that, Grace looks up and smiles brightly. “Jesse? He’s an amazing choreographer. He helps me out so much. I don’t know how I’ll ever thank him for all he’s done.”

  By marrying him and having stupid dancer babies.

  I scrub a hand down my face and sigh heavily. I really need to quit thinking like that. It’s just making my little green monster inside of me perk up.

  “Are you okay?” Killian lowers his voice as he peers at me. “Somehow I think you've managed to go past murder-face.”

  “What face am I making now?” I grit through my teeth.

  “It looks kind of like a mix of I'm-going-to-blow-up-the-plant and simultaneously go Hulk-rage at the same time.”

  That was an eerily clever way to
describe how I was feeling. Somewhat a little accurate, too.

  “Are you going to throw the coffee table again when you get home?”

  “I didn't break it the last time I threw it,” I point out. I'd been fairly certain that I had broken it, though. But it turns out it was okay still. Small miracle.

  Grace glances down the table at us.

  I want to make a face, abruptly tell her exactly where I think she can stick her feelings about her new little boyfriend, but instead, I sit there with my jaw clenched shut so I don't say anything.

  “What are you two going on about?” Grace asks.

  Killian easily answers, “Blowing up the world as a superhero.”

  Lila, Killian’s best friend and girlfriend, leans forward and arches her eyebrows at us. “I don't even want to know what kind of topic that is.”

  Probably not.

  “Alex, you're being awful quiet,” Ian says.

  “I was talking to Killian,” I grunt.

  “You could have joined our conversation about Grace’s boyfriend,” Ian smirks.

  He's baiting me. I know it and he knows it. “Sorry,” I shrug, “if it were interesting then I would have. But I could care less.” I make sure the last part is thrown out there towards Grace.

  She's gone stiffer than a board and is staring at her food again.

  Killian arches an eyebrow at me in question, but I can already hear the damn tune he's singing in his head as well.

  Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  Chapter Eight

  Grace

  I lift my foot in the air, trying to imagine Alex’s face where my sole is. It's a semi-satisfying mind game I'm playing with myself. The other part just feels lousy.

  Putting out there that Jesse was my boyfriend hadn't been in my game plan. I'd used it to mostly get Ian to leave me alone so I could escape Alex. And then look what happened.

  This is why lying is wrong.

  So I turn in a small circle with my leg still in the air, courtesy of taking ballet classes. Contemporary dance was far different. Where you were stiffer for ballet, you had to be fluid for contemporary.